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Forest Stream

The water is streamy
and my mind is getting dreamy
in the soft sound of crickets in the grass
the breeze is sweet
and a frog I meet
is croaking me to sleep
the trees are shading my eyes
from the sunlight in the skies
as water ripples against my toes.

© Jennifer Hill 1995

This is the first poem I ever published. I wrote it in 5th grade.

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